


Playtime

by SugarsweetRomantic



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, D/s, Dominance, F/F, Master/Pet, Shameless Smut, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 14:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic
Summary: Two women, both alike in dignity, in the fair moonlight where we lay our scene...Their roles are written in the stars. They know their parts.It's time to play.





	Playtime

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Control](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7651375) by [jenfurlee (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jenfurlee). 



The night was warm and calm as Franky walked out into the backyard of Bridget's home. This was one of her favourite parts of the house: it was large, and secluded by a high fence covered in greenery, gracing the inhabitants with complete privacy. It was that reclusion which she was about to take advantage of.

She didn't have to turn her head to know that Bridget was still following her as she walked over to the far end of the grass. The soft, gentle footsteps behind her told her all she needed to know. When she arrived at the spot she had selected earlier that day, she spun around to face the tentative-looking blonde.

“Are you okay?” she asked, reaching out with her right hand to caress the psychologist’s cheek. Bridget nodded in affirmation. “Do you still want to do this? I need to hear it from you, Gidge.” She stilled the movements of her hand, waiting for the vocal confirmation. Desire might be pooling in her lower torso, but that didn't mean she was going to skip making sure Bridget was consenting. Forcing her into something she wasn't comfortable with doing would be Franky’s worst nightmare, and it wasn't what this was about.

“Yes. Please,” Bridget replied, the words coming out more breathily than normal. Smiling, Franky nodded, and continued: “Tell me your safewords.”

“Yellow and Francesca, Franky.” The brunette felt a surge of pride go through her at the way the older woman immediately responded.

“That's perfect. Now then, strip for me,” she commanded, sitting down on the folding chair she had dragged out there earlier that day, when the sun had still been up. Bridget looked nervous at the thought of undressing herself in the outside air, but after a few seconds she responded with a: “Yes ma'am.” Turning around so she faced away from Franky, she raised a hand to the back of her neck and dragged the zipper of her dress down to the small of her back, revealing perfectly smooth skin. Franky knew that if she got closer she would be able to point out the tiny, light-coloured freckles covering the warm ivory surface. Bridget let the capped sleeves of her lightweight silk summer dress slip down her arms and gently moved her hips until it fell to the ground. She turned around to face the brunette, a look of discomfort on her face. She opened her mouth as if she was going to speak, but seemed to remember that she hadn't been given permission to. Taking pity on her girl, Franky decided to grant her speech.

“Tell me what's bothering you, Bridget.” The command was soft-spoken, but a command nonetheless. Blushing, Bridget replied: “I'm uncomfortable leaving this dress on the grass. I'm afraid it'll get ruined, and I really like it.” Holding up a hand to silence her again, Franky had to suppress a chuckle. Typical Bridget, worrying about the light blue garment pooling at her feet.

“You may pick it up and drape it over the back of my chair. You may do that with any garments you take off, to keep them from getting dirtied.” The blonde sighed visibly at the permission, and responded genuinely: “Thank you.”

When Franky motioned for her to continue, Bridget carefully undid the clasp of her bra. The lingerie she had chosen to wear was pristinely white, and covered in lace. It was perfect, really. She held out a hand for Bridget to drop the undergarment into, and for balance while her girl stepped out of her panties. When she bent at the waist to take off her heels, Franky shook her head.

“Keep those on.” Bridget immediately straightened her back and stood back up, looking at the younger woman with excitement visible in her eyes. “That's a good girl,” Franky praised her. Bridget's cheeks seemed to glow as a smile carefully mapped its way across her facial features. “Come here. I want you to kneel in front of me, with your back facing me.” The blonde complied within an instant, elegantly letting herself down onto the grass. Franky grabbed a hairbrush hidden under the chair and pulled the elastic out of Bridget's hair, freeing it from the ponytail she'd worn it in all day. Brushing gently, she worked her way through the knots until it was completely tangle-free. The psychologist seemed surprised at the tenderness of it all. Franky smirked, allowing her facial expressions to show now that Bridget couldn’t see her. 

“Dominance can be shown in many different ways, Bridget,” she explained as she separated the blonde locks into three parts and began to braid them. When she had finished, she fastened her handiwork with a ribbon, tying it into a neat bow.

“This is one way,” she added. “And this,” she continued as she slipped a collar around the vulnerable skin of Bridget’s throat, “is another.” One of the blonde's hands shot up to touch the soft silk and cool metal. Franky had ordered it a while ago. She'd come across it while browsing online, and it just had screamed ‘Bridget’ at her. The collar itself was a shiny black ribbon, decorated with a single bead, which connected it to a delicate silver chain that was now draped across the very edges of Bridget's collarbones. A charm in the shape of a heart completed it. To the untrained eye, it could just as well have been a necklace, but Franky knew Bridget was highly aware of what she had just fastened around her neck. 

“You are my beautiful pet, and you will do as I say. Do you understand?” she asked, now allowing her voice to become more forceful in its tone.

“Yes, Franky,” the woman kneeling in front of her responded. 

“Face me,” the brunette commanded. Bridget shuffled around on her knees until she was turned towards Franky, her gaze focused on her hands in her lap.

“You will refer to me as Ma'am or Mistress, since you are my pet. I own you. Am I clear?” She lifted a hand to Bridget's chin and pushed upwards, forcing the woman to look at her, her head tilted backwards. 

“Yes Ma'am.” Smiling, Franky let go of the woman's face.

“That's my good girl. Now, I am going to inspect you. I want to see whether you are still in prize-winning condition. Get on your hands and knees. Quickly.” Franky knew she might be pushing Bridget a bit too far - this wasn't a lifestyle she was used to, after all - but she had a feeling she could sense what her girl would be okay with. And for now, Bridget seemed very okay. As the older woman positioned herself in front of her, Franky caressed her lower back. “Good girl. If this position becomes painful for you, you need to tell me. I will not get angry with you. In fact, I will be more angry if you get injured because you're not telling me something hurts in a bad way. Do you understand?” she asked, letting a softness shine through in her tone. She didn't want to injure Bridget, or to overexert her back. The blonde nodded and replied: “Yes Mistress.” Perfect. 

“Good girl,” Franky cooed once more; she nearly rejoiced at the sight of a small shudder running through Bridget’s body at the praise. “Now let's see,” she continued, as she ran a finger down the blonde’s back, “a nicely curved spine. My pet has a slight scoliosis but nothing drastic. It is acceptable.” She let her hands drop to Bridget’s small breasts, which were nicely on display for her. “Small, but size isn't everything.” The psychologist let out a gasp when she lightly pinched her nipples. “Just beautiful.” Moving around her little pet, Franky lifted Bridget's chin with a single finger. “Bright, pretty eyes, and,” she commented as she forced two fingers past the older woman’s lips, “strong teeth.” As she moved back towards the woman’s feet, she lightly slapped her firm arse. The psychologist sucked in a deep breath at the sudden sting, before groaning softly. Franky grinned. “You like that huh? When I claim you?”

“Yes Ma'am. So much Ma'am,” was the breathy reply. “Please may I relax my arms, Mistress?” Franky could see that Bridget's shoulders were straining. 

“Yes, you may,” she confirmed, gently stroking the skin of the psychologist’s upper back as encouragement. “I'm proud of you for asking.” Bridget blushed visibly despite the low light, and bent forwards until her cheek was resting on the grass, her arms stretched out in front of her. The new position left her completely exposed to Franky, and that was exactly the way the younger woman liked her. 

“Are you okay to continue now, Pet?” she asked. 

“Yes Mistress, I am.” Franky could see that Bridget's sex was glistening with arousal, and the blonde was squirming - possibly subconsciously - as she tried to achieve the friction she craved. Deciding to take a little mercy on the older woman, Franky suddenly stroked her swollen lips with two fingers. Bridget was drenched, and it turned her on beyond anything she'd ever witnessed before. Once her digits were coated in her wetness, the brunette entered her girl, finding that her fingers slid in with ease into her tight, swollen heat. Bridget gasped at the sudden intrusion, followed by a long and deep moan when Franky separated her digits, making her walls stretch to accommodate them.

“Let's see how much you can take. Can you take one more, pet?” Franky asked, marking the end of her question with another light slap to Bridget's behind. 

“Yes, Mistress, please,” the blonde breathed, writhing around the intrusion. Immediately, another finger was added, stretching her walls even further. Franky offered her a few moments to get used to the feeling before she thrusted slowly, eliciting enthusiastic moans from the woman. 

“I think you can take a little more, pet.” At that, Franky unzipped her pants, which unbeknownst to Bridget allowed her to free a strap-on from restriction. Pulling out her fingers, she used Bridget’s arousal to coat the thick shaft before pressing the head of it against the blonde's entrance. It was going to be large for Bridget to handle, but she was convinced that her pet was turned on enough to take it with some assistance from Franky. “Are you ready?”

“Please,” Bridget moaned. Franky spanked her immediately. 

“Please what?” 

“Please, Mistress. Please take me Ma'am.” The poor psychologist was nearly delirious with arousal, and without being aware of it she was pushing against the toy as much as she could in her current position. 

“Try to relax for me, pet. Stop me if it's too much.” At that, Franky pushed forward gently. As much as she wanted to slam it into the blonde with all her might, she didn't want to injure her, and the sight of Bridget’s body working to accommodate the thick length was a reward on its own. The older woman gasped.

“You're so big, Ma'am,” she nearly sobbed. Gently running a hand down Bridget’s spine, Franky praised her: “And my beautiful pet is doing such a great job at taking it. Do you like it when I stretch you? You're outside for everyone to see, and they can all see you're mine and mine alone.” The brunette pushed in another inch. Bridget groaned: “Yes, Mistress. Please claim me, please Mistress.” Franky smirked. Who would've thought that perfect little Bridget Westfall would be such a wonderful submissive? 

“Take a deep breath for me.” The moment the blonde did as she was told, Franky pushed all the way in, revelling at the sight of the entire toy disappearing into her pet's slick heat. Bridget let out a high-pitched moan that morphed into a loud gasp once her owner began thrusting inside her. Her current position made the toy drag along the extremely sensitive flesh of her front wall at even the slightest shift, and it felt agonisingly wonderful. Suddenly she felt something cold and wet against her arse, and she squealed. Franky's fingers were spreading it - lube, she realised - across and between her cheeks. She moaned at the insinuation. 

“Can you take more?” Franky asked, letting one fingertip press against a ring of muscle. Gasping, Bridget replied honestly: “I don't know Ma'am, but I'm willing to try.” The brunette smiled.

“That's my good girl. Relax for me.” She moved one hand around to the psychologist’s neglected clit and stroked it gently while she applied a little more pressure. Her finger slipped in without much resistance, and Bridget moaned louder than she had done until then. Franky thrust gently, alternating between the toy and her digit. Bending over Bridget’s body, she commanded: “You are not allowed to come until I tell you so. Am I clear?” She moved her hand from Bridget’s clit to the collar around her neck.

“Yes Ma'am.” 

Franky increased the force of her thrusts, completely mesmerised by the way Bridget’s body was taking the double penetration. Some people were born submissives, and the paralegal was certain they'd accidentally uncovered that Bridget definitely was made to be one. She moved her free hand back to the blonde's wet folds and stroked across her swollen clit. The sounds Bridget was emitting could only be described as squeals. The older woman was trembling at the strain of keeping her orgasm at bay. Normally Franky would have already taken pity on her, but she decided that tonight she wanted to see just how long her girl would be able to hold back. She increased her speed, and Bridget nearly screamed at the increased stimulation. The brunette was impressed at her capability of preventing her climax. She could see a trail of wetness run down the inside of the blonde's thighs. Suddenly, she bent forwards while pressing down hard, and murmured into Bridget’s ear: “Come for me, pet. Show them who owns you.” All it took was two more thrusts for Bridget to topple over the edge on a high-pitched wail, her limbs turning to jell-o as the convulsions travelled through her body, hitting her like a freight train. Franky had to throw an arm around her abdomen to keep her from collapsing fully onto the grass.

“That's it, I've got you, just ride it out babe,” she soothed as she carefully pulled her digit out and caressed Bridget’s back while the woman moaned and writhed beneath her, until the heavy contractions had subsided and Bridget’s moans had turned into occasional gasps at the last rhythmic pulses. Franky kept caressing her girl as she gently moved backwards, letting the strap-on leave the psychologist’s body with a small gush of liquid. God, she was perfect. Grabbing a blanket she'd left nearby, she quickly wrapped it around the rapidly cooling skin. 

“You did so well; I'm so proud of you,” she praised her girl. Franky raised her hands to the blonde's neck and took the collar off of her, and thereby ending the scene. “May I carry you inside?” Bridget nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. “Okay.” Careful not to put any pressure on sensitive areas, the brunette lifted the tired body in her arms and brought her to the bedroom, gently laying her onto the soft mattress. She cocooned her in satin sheets before producing a bottle of Gatorade. 

“I need you to drink some of this for me, please.” Nodding, Bridget accepted the drink and slowly drank half the bottle before placing it on her nightstand. 

“Thank you,” Franky confirmed. “I need to step outside to clean up a little, but then I'll be right back, I promise. Is that okay?” Biting her bottom lip, Bridget nodded again. The younger woman pressed a kiss onto her forehead before quickly sprinting out into the yard and gathering the evidence of what had just occurred. Stepping into the bathroom, she efficiently cleaned the toys and washed her hands before rushing back over to Bridget in the bedroom. Kneeling at her side of the bed, she whispered: “Hey beautiful. Is it okay if I get in beside you and hold you? That way I can keep an eye on you.” The older woman nodded. “Okay then.” 

Franky stripped out of her clothing and harness, and grabbed a pair of boxers along with a soft pair of panties for the blonde. 

“May I help you put these on?” Another nod. Franky was aware that Bridget hated sleeping naked, but she was probably too exhausted to do anything about it. She swiftly pulled back the covers and slid the garment up Bridget’s long, slim legs before donning the boxers herself and getting in next to her.

“Come here, beautiful.” Within mere seconds, the psychologist was molded against her body, with her head on Franky’s breast. “You did so well,” the brunette reconfirmed as she gently stroked Bridget’s back. “I'm so proud of you. You were perfect.” 

By the time Franky pronounced her final syllable, Bridget had already fallen into a deep slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> That...was probably the most explicit fic I have ever written.


End file.
